Author - first off, busy as fuck. Second, I had no electricity for like 4 days because all the cables and wiring was being changed in the house and also I took up more of horse riding.
Anywho
The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.
---
The secure conference room felt smaller than usual with three extra holos floating above the table. I sat at the head, elbows on the polished wood, watching the faces of Governor Taren, Governor Hale, and Governor Seld flicker in blue light.
Jaster stood to my right, arms crossed, along with Atii Torv loomed near the door like a silent wall somehow with yet another new fucking blaster, I thought I told the department not to agree to more of his purchases. Fuck sake
Elara sat quietly on my left, her reddish-hued hands folded on the table, though she is sporting a new shorter haricut with a few small braids tucked behind her left ear.
While good old Rusty remained perfectly still beside me, purple photoreceptors glowing as he recorded every word.
Taren spoke first, rubbing his temple. "Patrol coordination is already causing friction. My crews are used to running short routes near Veyra. Your people want longer sweeps that cut through our outer lanes add to that fuel consumption is higher than we planned."
Hale jumped in, voice tired. "Same on my end. The TIE squadron you integrated keeps requesting different maintenance schedules. My mechanics are complaining they don't know the new protocols."
Seld leaned forward. "And the tariff cuts are hurting my customs revenue faster than expected. We agreed to reduce them, but my administrators are screaming that we'll run short on local projects within two quarters."
I listened, tapping a finger slowly on the table. The complaints were predictable, but they still piled up.
Jaster spoke up, voice low and steady. "The joint patrols are working. We caught two slaver skiffs last week that would have slipped through your old routes but yes, the crews need time to sync."
Elara added calmly, "The people on the new worlds are nervous. They want guarantees that food shipments and medical supplies won't be diverted to Elyria first."
I finally spoke, keeping my tone even. "We knew this wouldn't be smooth, the patrols stay on the new schedule longer range means fewer gaps for raiders and maintenance will be standardized under my logistics teams within the month. As for tariffs, we'll adjust the reduction to five percent for the first quarter instead of ten that should ease the immediate strain while still opening trade."
Taren exhaled. "Five percent helps. But my people still see Elyria getting the best of every deal.
"Atii pushed off the wall, her voice sharp but not hostile. "Your people were losing ships every month before we stepped in. Now they're not, maybe remind them of that and that the burials have lessened as well."
A short silence followed only broken by Rusty with his usual calm precision. "Logistical projections show that unified patrols will reduce successful raids by forty-one percent across all four systems within ninety days, that number will continue to climb in the future. Trade volume between the systems is already up nineteen percent. The short-term pain is measurable. The long-term gain is larger."
I nodded once. "We'll meet again in two weeks. Send your updated fuel and maintenance reports to Rusty or Harlan, they will handle synchronization. If there are any major bottlenecks, bring them directly to me."
The three governors murmured agreement, their holograms flickering as they signed off one by one.
Jaster looked at me. "They're cooperating, but they're still testing how far they can push."
"I know," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "They want the protection without feeling like they've lost control. We give them just enough autonomy to save face."
Torv grunted from the door. "Face won't stop a slaver boarding party."
Elara glanced at the empty holos. "Their worlds are poorer than ours. The people there have been scared for years. They need to see results, not just new orders from Elyria."
I stared at the blank space where the governors had been.
Four systems.
Millions more people.
More ships, more fighters, more mouths to feed and defend.
It had sounded simple on paper, in practice, it was already starting to feel heavy.
---
The next morning I walked the upper corridors of the palace with a datapad in hand, trying to keep up with the flood of new reports, every few steps another fucking alert chimed in, whats worse it sounds like the naval invasion sound from hearts of iron 4 so not only is it annoying as fuck its also giving me PTSD.
Most of them are either supply requests from Korrin Reach for spare parts that their old maintenance crews didn't know how to install.
A complaint from a Veyra administrator that Elyrian patrol ships were "disrupting local shipping schedules."
Fuel consumption logs showing the new extended routes were burning through reserves faster than projected.
A quiet note from one of the Nimura Drift leaders asking when medical shipments promised last week would actually arrive.
I just rubbed my eyes and kept walking and Rusty matching my pace easily on his long legs, photoreceptors scanning the datapad over my shoulder. "Prioritize the medical shipment to Nimura Drift," he said. "Their main clinic is down to twelve percent bacta reserves. The spare parts for Korrin Reach can wait another four days without major risk."
I nodded and forwarded the order. "What about the patrol scheduling complaints?"
"Minor. The Veyra crews are used to short loops near their inner moons. Our longer sweeps are safer but require them to stay out longer. Meatbags are just complaining because of more and slightly harder work. Morale will adjust once they see fewer raiders."
We turned a corner and nearly ran into Atii coming the other way. She had a half-eaten ration bar in one hand and a training glove dangling from the other.
"You look like you've been swallowing bad news for breakfast," she mumbled with mouth full of the ration bar, she then fell into step beside me. "How many problems today?"
"Plenty enough," I muttered. "The governors are cooperating on paper, but every little change turns into a negotiation. Their people are scared we're going to bleed their systems dry for Elyria's benefit."
Atii snorted. "They were bleeding already, we just stopped the worst of it, take away the support and they complain we are not honouring our end of the deal, we give them support and they complain. Either way you will get complaints. "She bumped my shoulder lightly and finished her ration bar.
"You're stretching yourself thin again. When was the last time you actually slept more than five hours?"
I didn't answer.
She already knew.
We reached the main logistics room. Inside, a mix of Elyrian clerks, a few Mandalorian technicians, and one very tired-looking officer from Korrin Reach were arguing over a large holomap of the four systems.
The officer spotted me and straightened. "Governor. The latest fuel projections for the joint patrols are twenty-three percent higher than we budgeted. If we keep this schedule, we'll need to pull reserves from civilian stockpiles on Veyra by next month.
"I studied the map, the new patrol routes did look aggressive, cutting deep into the empty space between systems."
Adjust the outer loops by fifteen percent," I said. "Keep the core routes intact. Tell Veyra we'll compensate the difference with shipments from our own reserves for the first two months, after that, they'll have to increase local production like we did."
The officer nodded, relief visible on his face as he hurried back to the console.
"They're testing you on the smallest things trying to see how much they can push before you push back or get annoyed at them and do something stupid."
"I know," I said quietly. "But if I push too hard now, they'll start dragging their feet on everything. We need this to work."
Rusty spoke up from behind us. "Current integration efficiency sits at sixty-eight percent. It will reach eighty-five percent within forty days if current trends hold. The bottlenecks are mostly cultural and logistical, not technical."
I stared at the holomap a moment longer, the four systems now linked by glowing patrol lines.
A month ago I had been running one struggling system that was on the upturn.
Now I am back to square one but this time I was trying to keep four from falling apart while pretending everything was under control.
Wish I could re-load a save and just say no to them.
I turned away from the map and headed back into the corridor, Atii and Rusty falling in beside me.
The trade lanes were opening and the raiders were starting to learn that four systems now answered to the same quiet authority, that had to count for something I think.
Force I fucking hope so.
---
Two days later I took the Gozanti to Veyra with a contingent of palace guards, Reza is thinking of upgrading his ship into the destroyer we have and still trying to crew up to make it the so called capital ship of Elyria.
The reason we went to Veyra because it was the closest of the three new systems, the planet looked worn from orbit patchy green continents broken by large stretches of dusty brown, a few modest cities clustered near rivers and old mining sites. No grand orbital infrastructure, no bustling shipyards, just a handful of aging defense satellites and one small space station that had seen better decades.
We landed at the main starport outside the capital. Governor Taren was waiting on the cracked landing pad with a small group of local officials, they looked even more tired in person, shoulders slightly hunched under their gray uniforms.
"Governor Voss," he said, offering a firm handshake. "Thank you for coming yourself. Most officials send aides."
I nodded. "I wanted to see it with my own eyes." The tour started simple.
We rode in an old repulsorlift convoy through the capital streets. The buildings were functional but faded, many with patched roofs and cracked walls and the people watched the convoy pass with cautious curiosity rather than excitement.
A few children waved, but most adults kept their heads down, focused on whatever daily work kept food on the table.
Taren pointed out the main power plant as we passed. "It's been running at sixty percent capacity for two years we lose power every few weeks. The last time pirates hit our outer mining outpost we couldn't even scramble fighters in time because half the ground crews were stuck in the dark."
I listened without comment, noting the empty guard posts and the handful of local police forces who looked under-equipped compared to my own forces.
Later we stopped at the central administrative building that looks like it was build before yoda got his first wrinkle and inside it was a dimly lit conference room, local department heads laid out their problems one after another:
Medical supplies were critically low.
Food distribution had gaps because raiders kept hitting the cargo runs.
The small planetary militia was exhausted and under-trained.
Repair parts for their single capital ship, if it could even be called that were months behind schedule.
I asked questions when needed, but mostly I just watched and listened, these weren't dramatic disasters they were just the slow, grinding decay of systems that had been ignored for too long.
Classic outer rim.
After the meeting Taren walked me back toward the landing pad while the sun was setting, it was painting the dusty streets in the same rust-red light I saw every evening on Elyria, though noticeably less red.
"You're younger than I expected," he said quietly.
Didn't you see me on the holo? Didn't you have any sort of information on me?
"When we first reached out, I thought you'd send someone else, most governors your age are still playing politics on Coruscant or partying and living a debuched lifestyle."
Well I would as well if not for some arrogant prick taking offence at my parents and myself.
I glanced at him. "I don't have that luxury."
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "No, I suppose you don't. Look… we're grateful for the patrols. Truly. But my people are nervous, they've been stepped on for years and they're worried this is just another Core Worlder using us as a buffer."
Thats exactly what this is but I am not a shortsigted fool and the wall or buffer or whatever, the better is the core which is Elyria.
I stopped walking and turned to face him directly. "I'm not here to use you, I need stable neighbors. If your systems keep bleeding, mine bleeds too. The extended patrols stay the trade agreements stay. We'll help rebuild what we can, but it won't happen overnight you have to hold up your end."
Taren studied me for a long moment, then nodded once."Fair enough."
As the shuttle lifted off and Veyra shrank beneath us, I stared out the viewport at the tired planet below.
A patchwork of old ships, worn infrastructure, and wary population that now looked to Elyria for protection, it wasn't a clean conquest or a grand alliance, It was just four tired systems in a trench coat trying to look scary and survive together.
The Gozanti hummed steadily through hyperspace on the return leg from Veyra.
I sat in the small command alcove off the main bridge, the low blue light of the tactical console washing over my face. The ship was quiet except for the constant drone of the engines and the occasional soft click from the crew working at their stations.
Through the viewport the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace stretched endlessly.
A secure channel pinged, I accepted it.
(for those who don't remember its the super tactical droid he got from the luckherhulk or however the fuck you spell that unnecessarily difficult name of the ship. The big round ball that the confederates had.)
Grok's tall figure appeared in crisp holo above the console, crimson photoreceptors steady. "Governor. The droid base reports full operational status on the primary foundry. Mining output has stabilized. Refinery capacity is now at one hundred and twelve percent. We have begun stockpiling refined materials for the next expansion phase."
I leaned back in the chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Good. How long until you can start the additional foundries?"
"Construction can begin within fourteen days. We project three new foundries and two additional refineries operational within a month to two months. Preliminary work on the orbital shipyard frame can start in four months if resource flow remains consistent."
I nodded slowly. The numbers were impressive, almost too impressive, A hidden industrial machine quietly growing in the dark, producing droids, weapons, and components while the Empire thought Elyria was still a minor backwater.
"Keep it compartmentalized," I said. "No large movements, use the blind drone drops for anything that needs to reach us, and continue scouting the old confederation remnants and the unknown regions, I want options ready when we decide to move on the next vault or if there are planets worth setting up an outpost on."
"Understood. One additional note: the partial map from the outpost raid has yielded three potentially viable hyperspace routes into the Unknown Regions. One route shows signs of recent traffic. Shall I prioritize mapping it?"
I thought for a moment. "Yes but quietly. Send the data to Rusty for cross-checking. Nothing aggressive yet."
Grok inclined his head once. "Orders logged."
The holo winked out and I stared at the empty space for a long second, then looked out at the blue swirl of hyperspace. In half a year there would be a partially built hidden shipyard capable of building real capital ships.
All of it happening while I played the loyal young governor for the Empire.
The Gozanti shuddered slightly as it prepared to drop out of hyperspace near Elyria.
I stood up, straightened my grey tunic, and stretched as we were on final approach to Elyria, the weight on my shoulders felt a little different now.
Heavier, but also sharper. Like something solid was finally taking shape in the dark.
Like a snake, a solid snake.
I just grinned at that.
God I miss the internet, holo network is like a very degraded but somehow very advanced but narrow internet from the early 2000s.
---
The holo-call came without warning while the Gozanti was still on final approach to Elyria.
I was standing on the bridge when the priority chime sounded, the comm officer glanced at me, then routed it to the main display.
The image that materialized was exactly who I expected: Moff Jerjerrod. The old, fat, balding bastard himself, lounging in an oversized chair in what looked like a lavish office on some Core-adjacent world, not even bothering to be in his actual territory. His white and gold uniform was stretched tight across his belly, and he had the lazy, half-lidded expression of a man who hadn't done real work in years.
"Voss," he drawled, not even bothering with my title. His voice heavy with either substance or drink or both. I can smell the foul breath through lightspeed, through holo and directly sieging my nostrils.
"I hear you've been busy playing hero in your little corner of space, something about taking over neighboring systems like some frontier warlord. Very ambitious for a boy your age and with people out there who already have you on their shitlist like they did with your parents."
Oh this motherfucker.
I kept my face neutral, hands clasped behind my back as I reply in an even but emotionless tone. "Moff Jerjerrod. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
He waved a pudgy hand dismissively, rings glinting on his fingers. "Pleasure? Hardly. I'm getting reports that make my auditors nervous, sudden industrial growth. New shipyard pieces going up. Patrols sweeping half the sector like you own it, and now three other low level governors are practically kissing your boots. It's… unseemly."
I gave his fat protruding stomach a quick glance before he notices.
He leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight. "I don't like it when systems start acting independent. Makes the numbers look messy and makes me look like I'm not in control, seems like a bit of a CIS behaviour dont you think? So here's what's going to happen, you're going to slow all this down. No more aggressive expansion, no more 'joint patrols' that just happen to swallow up other people's territory and you'll be increasing your quarterly tribute by fifteen percent, I dont care what that spinless auditor sent to you said otherwise. Consider it a stabilization fee."
He smiled, the expression oily and self-satisfied. "After all, the Empire protects you, it's only fair you show proper gratitude. Wouldn't want any unfortunate audits finding… irregularities in how you handled those pirate assets, would we?"
I so wanted to smirk knowing he is the one who got shafted since audits and reports will make it look like he recieved it but either lost it or 'pocketed it'
I stared at him for a long moment, letting the arrogance and laziness wash over me, this was the man who had let pirates and slavers run wild through the sector for years while he sat fat and comfortable, skimming bribes.
"Understood, Moff," I said evenly. "I'll review the tribute figures and adjust accordingly."Jerjerrod grunted, already losing interest. "Good. See that you do. And try not to cause me any more paperwork."
He can write? With those rancor things he calls fingers?
The holo cut off abruptly and the bridge stayed silent for a beat.
I turned away from the empty display and looked out the viewport as Elyria grew larger ahead of us, the faint lights of the orbital shipyard already visible.
Arrogant.
Dismissive.
Lazy.
And completely unaware of how much had already changed and the plans in motion.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
Let the fat fuck stay comfortable for now the longer he underestimated what was happening out here, the more room I had to keep building.
---
The training hall beneath the palace rang with the sharp crack of padded staves meeting.
I circled Atii, breathing hard, sweat sticking my shirt to my back, she moved like liquid, brown hair tied back tight, bare feet silent on the mat.
Her grin was sharp and teasing as she feinted left, then snapped her staff toward my ribs.
I caught it barely and twisted, driving her weapon down and away, the impact jarred my arms, but I held the block months of this had finally started to show with my footwork being cleaner and my reactions faster.
I wasn't just surviving her attacks anymore and praying for the best; I was starting to answer them.
"Better," she said, voice low and mocking. "You're not falling over your own feet today. I'd call it progress."
She spun the staff and came in again, faster this time.
I ducked under the swing, stepped inside her guard, and drove my shoulder into her midsection.
She grunted, but instead of stumbling back she hooked an arm around me and used my own momentum to flip me.
I hit the mat hard, air exploding out of my lungs, before I could roll away she dropped on top of me, knees pinning my arms, her face inches from mine.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her breath was warm against my cheek."Got you," she murmured, eyes bright with challenge. "Again."
For a second neither of us move, the hall was empty except for the two of us.
The only sound was our breathing and the faint hum of the overhead lights, her weight pressed me down, solid and warm, and something in the air between us shifted not quite playful anymore.
I smirked up at her. "You're getting slow, Atii. I almost had that one."
She laughed softly, the sound low and rough. "Almost doesn't count." She didn't get off me right away, her fingers stayed curled around my wrist a moment longer than necessary before she finally pushed herself up and offered me a hand.
I took it. and she pulled me to my feet with more force than needed, and for a heartbeat we stood close, chests still heaving from the sparring.
A bead of sweat traced down the side of her neck.
I looked away first.
We moved to the side of the hall and grabbed water, I drank deeply, then leaned against the wall, letting the cool stone press into my back.
Atii took a long pull from her own bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You're improving," she said, tone shifting from teasing to something more serious. "But you're still stretching yourself too thin. I can see it in your shoulders. You're carrying four systems now, not one. That kind of weight doesn't just sit on your back it gets into your bones."
I stared at the floor for a moment, then let out a slow breath. "It's not just the systems," I said quietly. "It's the expectations, Pellaeon keeps sending these polite little messages about loyalty and stability and 'updates'. Thrawn's watching too, really watching. And then there's that fat, balding bastard Jerjerrod."
My voice hardened. "The loot I sent him was deliberately smaller than what we actually recovered, I already told and sent the transcript to Pellaeon exactly what I shipped. But somehow the official report that left the Moff's office listed lower numbers, his own stamp was on it. Probably some tired clerk hitting 'approve' on autopilot, but it's there. On record."
I flexed my fingers, still feeling the ache from the staff work."
And don't get me started on the five thousand sets of stormtrooper Armor we found in pirate hands. That trail leads straight back to the manufacturer, then straight to the capital city on his sector headquarters. The entire sector under his command. He's either stupid enough to let that happen or corrupt enough to profit from it. Either way, he's dangerous and even the Imperial boogeymen that are the ISB are not willing to touch him."
I huff "What I wouldn't give to wrap my hands around his meaty almost non existent neck, that is just hidden under his fourth chin and throttle the fucker."
Atii stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat still radiating off her from the sparring.
She reached out and flicked a stray strand of hair out of my eyes, her touch lingering a second longer than it needed to.
"You're not carrying all that alone," she said, voice low. "But you're trying to, that's the part that worries me."
For a moment the air between us felt thicker.
Her fingers brushed the side of my jaw as she lowered her hand, neither of us moved away.
I met her eyes. "I know. But if I slow down now, everything we've built starts to crack. The governors we just brought in are unreliable, the people on their worlds are watching to see if Elyria actually delivers. And the Empire…" I gave a short, humorless laugh.
"The Empire is always watching."
Atii didn't reply right away.
I could smell the faint scent of sweat and the soap she used.
"Then let me help carry some of it," she said quietly. "At least while we're in this room. The rest of the galaxy can wait a few more minutes."
She stayed there, close, breathing with me, the tension between us humming like a live wire.
I closed my eyes for a second and let the weight ease, just a little.
Then I stepped back, picked up the training staff again, and gave her a tired smirk. "Again," I said.
She grinned. "Try not to fall this time, Kael."
---
The secure conference room was packed next afternoon.
My inner circle filled one side of the long table, Jaster, Torv, Atii, Elara, Reza, and Rusty standing quietly at my shoulder. Across from us, the three governors appeared as crisp holos: Taren, Hale, and Seld, each looking a little more worn than the last time we had spoken.
I tapped the table once to bring the meeting to order. "We need to start thinking longer term," I said. "Four systems are now linked under the same operational command, that means unified defense doctrine, shared economic policies, and a plan to bring the new worlds up to Elyria's standards."
Taren rubbed his jaw. "My administrators are already nervous, and now they are also saying that Moff's people have been snooping around the customs offices and supply depots, asking questions."
Hale nodded. "Same on Korrin Reach, two inspectors showed up unannounced yesterday. They're not being subtle."
Seld leaned forward. "We're keeping our end of the bargain, but if the Moff says to break it all up there is little either of us can do."
I glanced at Rusty, he spoke immediately. "Current patrol integration is holding at seventy-four percent efficiency, we can increase coverage in the shared border zones without drawing extra attention. On the economic side, gradual tariff alignment and joint trade contracts will bring the new systems in line over the next six to eight months, infrastructure upgrades can be framed as local improvement projects funded by increased trade revenue."
Jaster added, "Militarily we keep the new ships and fighters under your command, but we rotate crews through Elyria for training, that way they get better without it looking like a takeover."
Elara spoke quietly. "The populations on the new worlds are watching, if we improve medical shipments and food distribution quickly, it will calm things down. Slow and steady works better than sudden changes."
I listened to them all, then laid out the direction. "We move carefully, unified patrols continue, but we keep the public story simple cooperative security agreements. Economic integration stays gradual. The Moff's administrators are already poking around, so we give them nothing to bite on, no sudden jumps in production numbers, no flashy new projects on the outer worlds. We build quietly."
Taren let out a slow breath. "Understood. We'll keep our people in line on our end."
The meeting wrapped up with a few more details on supply schedules and patrol handoffs, the three governors signed off one by one, their holos winking out.
---
Late that night I sat alone in my office, the only light coming from the soft blue glow of the main holotable.
Reports from the three new systems were still pouring in supply requests, patrol logs, minor disputes between local administrators and my logistics teams.
I scrolled through them slowly, eyes burning from another long day.
Two new priority messages arrived at the same time, the first was from Grand Admiral Pellaeon.
I opened it, his image appeared, calm and composed as always. "Governor Voss, I wanted to personally commend you on the continued good progress in your sector. Stabilizing four systems in such a short time is no small feat I am genuinely overjoyed by the results you are delivering."
He paused, expression turning more serious."Moff Jerjerrod, however, is on very thin ice, his office has been… lacking in several areas. I have gotten reports that the tribute shipments have had some, discrepancies both from the report you have sent along with others and the fact he has been known to be implicated with selling imperial arms and armour like stromtrooper armour, however these are ships we are talking, it has all been quietly flagged regarding the tribute shipment and the missing stormtrooper armour."
Pellaeon's eyes hardened slightly. "Rebel activity is increasing across the galaxy, we are seeing more frequent strikes and, more concerning, confirmed sightings of Jedi operatives in multiple sectors. If you encounter anything beyond your immediate control any unusual disturbances, unexplainable events, or individuals who seem too capable report it to me directly. Bypass the Moff's office entirely. His judgment can no longer be trusted."
The message ended with a crisp nod. "Keep building, Kael. The Empire needs more systems like yours."
I stared at the empty space for a long moment.
The second message came from the droid base.
Grok's tall figure materialized, his voice was as flat and precise as ever. "Production of B1 battle droids continues at projected rates additional mining operations have been established in three new veins. A small-scale production line for Vulture droids is now active. We are currently testing modifications to extend flight duration from the original twenty-to-thirty-minute limit to a more useful two-to-six-hour window early results are promising. Further testing is ongoing."
No farewell, the holo simply cut out.
I leaned back in the chair, letting the quiet of the office settle over me. The weight of four systems, the growing droid forces hidden away, Pellaeon's quiet warning about Jerjerrod, the rising rebel threats, the Jedi sightings like Kestis.
it all pressed down at once.
My eyes grew heavier.
I thought about the new patrol routes weaving between the four systems about the factories on the moon and the gas giant platform slowly coming online, about the governors who had handed over their ships and fighters while still clinging to their titles.
My head nodded forward once.
I thought about how fast everything was moving now. How the careful balance I had been keeping was starting to feel thinner with every new ship, every new factory, every quiet expansion.
My eyelids drifted lower.
I thought about Atii the way she had pinned me during training earlier, the warmth of her breath against my cheek, the quiet offer to help carry some of the weight.
The last thing I remembered before sleep finally took me was the faint curve of her grin and the way her fingers had lingered just a second too long on my wrist.